


Her True Colours

by PurpleFluffyCat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bigotry & Prejudice, Dark, Dubious Consent, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Het, Manipulation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Ministry of Magic, Politics, Wizarding Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 15:56:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5671693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleFluffyCat/pseuds/PurpleFluffyCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cornelius Fudge had never attracted much in the way of female attention, so when his 'charming' female colleague became so <i>considerate</i> who was he to refuse her ministrations? A tale of desire and manipulation, within and without the Ministry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her True Colours

Her stubby fingers were surprisingly effective on the knots in his shoulders, and Cornelius stretched back in his chair and considered how, as Minister of Magic he _did_ deserve a little attention, some massage... some adoration. Gosh! No-one had ever done this before - perhaps it should be introduced as a tabulated perk of the job.

"I hope that helps, Minister. You _do_ work too hard!"

"Why, thank you, Madam Umbridge. I shan't deny that such consideration is rather welcome. It's very lonely at the top of the tree, you know. And one has to try _so_ hard to get here in the first place."

"I can well imagine, Minister," replied the Senior Undersecretary, "And do call me 'Dolores'."

"Charmed, Madam. Oh yes! Slightly to the left. Yes, wonderful... Err, and I can be 'Cornelius,' just to you, what, what?"

"Delighted, my _dear_ Cornelius. I'm certain that we will make a very effective team. There is much that I could do to assist you; there are so many ways that I could help to relieve the tension of what must be a _very_ stressful position. But of course, I wouldn't want to take up any of your time which must be jealously guarded by a... Mrs. Fudge?" Her voice trailed off delicately.

"Mrs. Fudge? Oh goodness, no. No-one has used that title since my dear mother passed away." At this news, the bejewelled fingers at his shoulders tightened their grip, then began to quite delightfully creep up the back of Cornelius' neck.

"I am most surprised to hear that, my dear Cornelius. Such a handsome and eligible gentleman as yourself, unmarried? Why! What is the world coming to?!"

"Mmm, well, yes..." Cornelius was not in the habit of discussing his personal life - or to be more precise, the lack of it - with colleagues, or with anyone at all, for that matter. But the fire in his office was warm, and Dolores' hands were strangely comforting on his back... "It's a little sad, really... There was a girl once, of whom I was rather fond, but nothing came of it. She was a bit of a hero-worshipper to be honest - and terribly naïve. Had a crush on Albus Dumbledore, if I remember correctly. Not that _that_ was going to do her any good!

"But I don't want to occupy all of your evening. Please do elaborate on these innovative plans that you mentioned, Dolores. It really was _too_ kind of you to formulate policy for me in your spare time."

"Think nothing of it, Cornelius dear." Her firm grip left his shoulders and Dolores positioned herself directly in front of Cornelius - the gaze of her small eyes meeting hers with surprising intensity. "Now, I have just a few little ideas, and they are as follows..."

Dolores moved her hands across her body as she spoke, with an air of nonchalence. Cornelius' eyes were drawn to her ample curves accented by neat, frilled tailoring... _and what a charming pink bow!_ She pouted her lips artfully when she stopped to think. Cornelius' treacherous brain considered that they seemed large and moist, and... kissable.

Goodness! He quickly scolded himself for such unprofessional thoughts. Where on earth had they come from? Perhaps he _was_ working too hard. The fine woman before him would surely not appreciate those notions when she was taking such a generous interest in the details of his work, and suggesting how she might help with the most secret and sensible Ministry operations. Cornelius quickly broke out of his reverie. "What was that...? Dementors? Oh yes, whatever you like, my _Dolores_..."

"Oh, and _Cornelius_ , dear? I have spending some of my other small amount of free time considering the problem that the Ministry faces with regard to the irresponsible and patently false claims that You Know Who has returned..."

"Have you? That's so good of you," he uttered, absent-mindedly. Here eyes were little and squinting, but they seemed to lock his gaze such that he could not look away. A _very_ large pair of buttocks were clearly residing under that skirt, but Cornelius wondered whether they were shapely... He realised with a jump that Dolores had been outlining her plans. "More control over Hogwarts, you say? A position of power? Mmm... quite so..."

"Of course, whoever took the job would be making a massive personal sacrifice - the long hours, the ability to wield power unilaterally could be most isolating."

"Yes, quite. Well, I suppose it would be quite unreasonable to expect anyone to-"

"-Well actually, Cornelius, I have excellent news!" Dolores interrupted triumphantly. She then took a theatrical deep breath and pressed a small, lacy handkerchief to her temples and ample cleavage. "I have examined my heart and conscience long and hard and have come to the conclusion that, as my conjugal bouquet surprising remains unplucked, it is only right that I should be the one to devote my life wholly and selflessly to service of the Ministry in this way."

"Oh, Dolores! What a wonderful offer. But I couldn't possibly ask you to..." _Madam Umbridge was unmarried!_ cried his wandering mind. How could this paragon of womanly strength and generosity have remained alone?

"It shall be a great trial, I am sure," Dolores replied with a rattling breath, "But I am resolved. Just the simple knowledge that you are in support of my judgement on all matters will make the ordeal bearable."

Cornelius was overwhelmed by her kindness. "You are magnificent. Really, I don't know what to say to thank you."

"A word from you is all the thanks I need, Cornelius," simpered Dolores, "Just to save time, I have drawn up a charter for you to sign..." She produced a hefty pile of parchment opened neatly at just the final page - which bore nothing other than a dotted line subtitled, 'approved by Cornelius Fudge, M.O.M.'. "No need for you to read it, and beside we wouldn't want the apple pie that I've made especially for you to get cold, now would we?"

"Apple pie?" said Cornelius, as he scratched his name absent-mindedly. How had she known that apple pie was his very favourite? A steaming, cinamonny slice appeared quickly at his side. "This does look delicious!"

"Oh, I am glad," replied Dolores, as she subtly licked what looked like pastry crumbs from the corners of her mouth. "I shan't have any, of course. I think it's extremely important for even the most devoted and hard-working woman to attend to her feminine charms and preserve her delicate figure." Dolores framed her copious waist with her plump fingers in the style of a Witch-Weekly fashion model and tried to pose on one foot. Unfortunately however, the effect was lost on Cornelius, who was fully absorbed in the heady world of steamed apples. The pie had made him realize that he hadn't eaten all day, and he was ravenous.

"Hem, hem," said Dolores, with a slightly disgruntled tone, "It would be most comforting - as I am about to leave the bosom of the Ministry to embark upon a most difficult and perilous task - to know honestly what opinion you hold of me in your heart... Cornelius?" She bit her lower lip girlishly, in the style of one who is nervous.

Cornelius could not bear to see a lady suffer - particularly one with such fine baking skills - and he filled with a warm glow at the thought that his opinion might mean so much to his charming female colleague. He scooped up her hand in his and gallantly pressed it to his lips, as Dolores looked down coquettishly through batted eyelids. "You amaze me, my dear."

*******

A lime-green bowler hat sat atop the dresser in the corner of the room, clashing violently with the pink doileys, potpourri and statuettes that surrounded it. In the stately four-poster bed alongside, Cornelius Fudge relaxed in the afterglow of the best sex he had had in years - or more accurately, the _only_ sex he had had in years - as a plump sated woman sprawled against him.

Naturally, Cornelius had never stepped inside Dumbledore's private chambers, but he wagered that Dolores had made quite the redecorating effort in the mere two hours she had been Headmistress. _Good for her! Take that, Dumbledore!_ he thought triumphantly. The man may have deprived Cornelius of his adolescent love many years ago and his credibility in office far more recently, but let it not be said that Cornelius Fudge was above celebrating an enemy's fall by shagging in his own ex-boudoir.

And what a woman to have as his lover! Madam Umbridge was a marvel, both in public and in private. Their correspondence had become more frequent in recent weeks, as her excellent work at Hogwarts was reaching its peak. She had started to use delightful scented notepaper with little scalloped edges instead of the Ministry-headed parchment, and when she sent him her portrait in the hopes that she wouldn't be forgotten at the Ministry, Cornelius had found himself gazing at it admiringly for long periods at a time; almost as if the thing had been charmed...

His ardour for Dolores had definitely grown in her absence, and although Cornelius was by no means a presumptuous man, he had slowly come to believe that she might return his feelings. The way their eyes had met during fire-calls; it was almost.. romantic. Never mind the fact that Dolores had frequently reminded him that she was on her hands and knees in the office to speak to him, making his treacherous mind wander to thoughts of large upturned buttocks clad tightly in pink tweed.

Her owl that afternoon had of course been the happiest of all. _Dumbledore and cronies caught red-handed! Come immediately, D xxx_ He and his Aurors had apparated straight away and rushed to the heart of the school, Cornelius undecided whether he was more excited about Dumbledore's downfall or the reunion with his best - and most desirable - ally.

The old bastard had gotten away, of course. Just my luck, Cornelius thought; no prize to send to Azkaban. But when the dust had settled, the situation was definitely an all-round improvement - the school was firmly under Ministry control, resistance had been outed and squashed, and it was with a triumphant pen that Cornelius signed Educational Decree Number 28, installing his finest lady-friend as Headmistress.

What happened next was still a blur in Cornelius' mind, even as he lay there beneath the cosy pink frippery. Dolores had said she wanted to _celebrate_ and invited him to stay for dinner in her rooms. The elves brought something delicious, something that made him go all light-headed, and all of a sudden he was aware of nothing but her plump lips against his own, her small, hot hands pulling at his robes and then a heavy and demanding presence atop him as his mind struggled to keep up with the reactions his body clearly had no difficulty in making.

All in all, he supposed it was... pretty splendid! Definitely something that was worth a repeat performance. Cornelius was not a man for going into livid details on these matters, even in his own thoughts, but he did acknowledge that she had been feisty and passionate. Even quite bossy, come to think of it. Cornelius wasn't quite sure what he made of that, but was certain that this was the best luck that had come his way in that department for absolutely ages, and he would be foolish not to appreciate the gift of Dolores in all her glory.

After a long, breathless silence, the woman to his side turned, pressing her ample body to his as she lay her head on his shoulder and attempted to purr. "Why, Cornelius, I had no idea that you had such feelings towards me... as a woman..."

"You didn't?" Cornelius was surprised by that; he'd been worried his regard was too obvious.

"No my dearest; but you _are_ always the very picture of discretion - yet so handsome, so manly! One so delicate as I, deflowered by a veritable stallion!"

That made Cornelius panic a little. "Deflowered?!"

"Why yes, of course," she said, with a touch of reproach. "But I am so pleased that it was with you, my _dear_ Cornelius. Panic not my love, I'm sure the soreness will go away soon."

"Oh, good..."

Dolores pressed herself even closer. "I am pleased to have given you such a precious gift; I can only wonder what you will give me in return...?" A tinkle of girlish laughter, as that suggestion hung in the close, perfumed air. "But do tell me, Cornelius, are you pleased that we have become close... like this?"

Confused and elated, Cornelius gave his answer. "You delight me, my dear."

*******

"Resign? How ridiculous! There's no way that you should heed their vulgar calls, Cornelius, dear. You are the finest Minister of Magic this country has had for centuries!"

Cornelius sighed deeply. "Thank you, my sweet. I do appreciate it. If only everyone felt the same as you."

They sat in the lounge of Cornelius' home - the house he had inherited from his parents, and in which Dolores was spending increasing amounts of time. She had even changed the decor to pink - not that he really minded.

Indeed, ever since the night of their _celebration_ he and Dolores had understandably become rather closer. From time to time, Cornelius had mused upon what exactly that might mean. He was in love with her? Was 'love' the right word? Well, Cornelius wasn't really sure - he wagered he had never really been in love. At the least, he knew that he had been lonely, and the she was company. He thought about her a lot, and they had sex. That had to count, didn't it?

Almost as if she had been party to his thoughts, Dolores said, "Cornelius, my love? I can think of a way to help your position, if you'd like to hear it?"

"Oh, yes please."

"Well, it's a pretty splendid idea, even though I do say so myself. My idea is..." she paused, as if awaiting a drum-roll, "You could reinvigorate your public image by marriage!" Dolores beamed, but much as Cornelius liked her smile, he did feel slightly as if under a scorching charm. "A lady's touch would definitely help you with the public, and wouldn't it be lovely? We could be in office together!"

"Oh! I... um..."

"Mmm yes..." she continued, "I believe 'Minister's Wife' is the usual title, although I rather like the sound of 'First Witch'. What do you think, dearest?"

Cornelius felt rather alarmed by the sudden turn of the conversation and tried to play for time. "Well, it's probably a moot point after all, isn't it? - If that vote of no confidence goes through next month..."

"But we _need_ someone like you in charge!" Dolores declared with passion, placing her hand on top of his. "Someone who agrees with me, that is. I simply won't allow them to remove you, my dear, the country needs you! The people need someone who can finally come to see to the _real_ problem in our society at present. Something that I have known all along."

Cornelius was intrigued. "And that is...?"

"Why, the corruption of Wizarding blood, of course! The instability that comes to our society from incautious marriages and makes a breeding ground for social unrest and the rise of Dark Wizards like You-Know-Who. Filthy Mudbloods!"

"Mudbloods?" Cornelius really felt confused by all of this.

"Yes, the scourge of Wizarding kind!" She began talking rapidly, in excitement. "With an upbringing like that, how can they be _expected_ to function as upstanding members of the community? Not their fault of course, one feels sorry and all that - but - it would definitely be kinder to remove all such genetic anomalies at birth. What we need is a nice clear, firm piece of legislation. It would take a while to clear away the adults, I suppose, but one could really clean up the next generation..."

Dolores plunged into deep thought, leaving Cornelius blinking and somewhat muddled. He voiced the one simple thought that came to mind. "I had an aunt who was Muggle-born."

The shock in Dolores' face was palpable "What?! Your grandmother was a... euurgh! But you told me you were a pure blood! " She scowled, snatching her hand away from Cornelius; her sudden vehemence startled him.

Suddenly uncomfortable, he answered, "Err... well, yes... I suppose I am. Aunt Betty married Uncle Arthur, who was Mama's brother."

At that, Dolores relaxed immediately and resumed her sweet smiling. "Oh, an aunt by _marriage_ , you mean, I see. Well, there's no accounting for some people's taste, I suppose. I thought for a second that you were saying," - A brittle tinkle of laughter - "That _you_ , my Dear Cornelius, as Minister of Magic, had filthy Muggle blood running through your veins. The very idea! You didn't mean that after all, though, did you?"

"No, I guess I didn't."

"Well, that's a relief! You mustn't frighten a lady's constitution like that, Cornelius, darling."

A long pause ensued as Dolores returned to her thoughts and plans, and began scribbling something on a piece of paper. Cornelius' brow furrowed as his mind wandered back through childhood memories. "She was rather nice, actually."

No response, then an absent-minded, "Mmm? What was that?"

"Oh, nothing."

Cornelius sat back in his chair with jumbled thoughts. Their world was certainly in a pickle and something had to be done about it. He hadn't really considered that blood-politics might be the problem underlying it all... but then again, it had been in the past, hadn't it? Maybe something _did_ need to be done. And Dolores was very clever about these things; she wasn't often wrong.

But such drastic measures? Euthanizing babies was pretty harsh, no matter how ill-advised their conception had been - even if _was_ necessary for the betterment of society as a whole; even if that was actually true. Dolores was a strong woman, that was for certain. It would take a lady of some character to go through with something like that... but then again she had always been steely, stoic, self-sacrificing, hadn't she? Cornelius mused that her true colours were not necessarily all pink.

Dolores put a triumphant final flourish on her draft and passed it to Cornelius to read. "So, darling, what do you think of my efforts?"

Furrowing his brow, Cornelius tried to be tactful. "You surprise me, my dear."

*******

Cornelius was not a conoisseur of female beauty, but he could tell that the outfit Dolores was wearing didn't suit her. She was too plump and rather too old to dress in the style of a ballerina - her stubby legs looked silly beneath the short, pink skirt, and the too-tight bodice caused her flesh to squeeze above and below the garment in question. He definitely preferred his woman in tweed and cardigans and dim light, Cornelius resolved.

The construction around her middle seemed to make Dolores short of air; but perhaps the breathy simpering voice she was employing toward her visitor was intentional.

Cornelius viewed the scene from the doorway to the living room - _his_ living room, which was apparently now _their_ living room. He was home earlier than expected; his new job in a backwater Ministry department combined the disadvantages of low-status and anti-social work hours. It would have been natural to go in and announce himself, but something about Dolores' unusual dress and tone made Cornelius linger unnoticed.

"Ah, Minister, I'm _so_ pleased that you could find the time to join me here - in the very _bosom_ of my home." Dolores thrust her chest even further outwards to accompany that line, and the figure she was addressing backed away hastily.

Scrimgeour's gruff tones quickly met his ears, "You are welcome. Now, please be clear regarding the purpose of this meeting."

Dolores released a tinkle of girlish laughter, "Oh Minister! So businesslike. Must there always be a clear purpose when two friends wish to spend some time together. After all... _Rufus_... if I may call you 'Rufus'? You're a man and I'm a woman; surely it would be pleasant for us to-"

"I have no need for a female companion, thank you," he replied curtly.

"Surely Minister, you wouldn't have the time for a regular relationship - all of us are so busy, I do understand - but a man of your position must have _desires_ \- tensions that need to be relaxed. Just think how powerful we could be together..."

"Madam Umbridge, in the name of expediency, allow me to be perfectly clear. When I require sexual gratification, I take a good, clean whore with hair like gold, a mouth like a furnace and thighs like a whippet. I have absolutely no need for a corpulent, sagging Ministry employee with ideas above her station and a dress sense to make Rita Skeeter seem the epitome of class. Good day to you."

A whoosh from the fireplace announced that Scrimgeour had left. Believing herself to be alone, Dolores huffed in frustration at the cloud of floo-powder sparks then dashed for her wand to gratefully cast a loosening charm on the corset she was wearing. The fastenings sprang apart and her flabby stomach pushed the boned satin outwards as Dolores gasped for breath.

From his vantage point at the door-jamb, Cornelius dispassionately mused that she seemed to be much fatter in real life than the image he carried in his mind - and not in a curvaceous and volumptous way, but squelching and lumpen. Her hair looked dull and her thighs were the texture of curdled milk. The mouth that he had so often kissed was framed in saggy jowls and those clever, sweet eyes looked nothing but vehement.

Being no looker himself, Cornelius had always valued inner beauty above all - a lovely personality was truly the thing that was most important - so why did he now fix upon Dolores' physical imperfections? Why, all of a sudden did it matter? It all seemed to have changed when he had lost his job, when she had stopped bothering to make him that special purple tea...

How he wished things could go back to how they were! Cornelius had just become used to feeling cared for, but increasingly these days-

\- His musing advanced no further, however, as Dolores emerged from the sitting room. "Oh, Cornelius! You're back. You didn't hear... Oh no, of course you didn't. I was just taking tea with _dear_ Rufus."

"I am quite aware," he muttered, but she appeared not to have heard, continuing on.

"I'm busy this evening, so you'll have to have dinner on your own."

"Again, Dolores? We don't seem to get to spend much time together these days, even though we are living together now, and we haven't made love for-"

"- Well, needs must, and all that," she said dismissively.

"But I thought we were going to get married, soon. You said-"

"Did I?" A girlish giggle, "Oh, you _are_ sentimental."

She didn't bother to strap herself back in to her extravagant outfit for Cornelius' benefit and instead turned her back on him and waddled off to the bedroom to get changed.

Cornelius was left in the hallway, feeling more alone than when he had been the only person living in that house. "You hurt me, my dear."

*******

A lime-green bowler hat sat atop a stack of packing cases in the hall. Cornelius waited anxiously for his friend's Ministry car to arrive; he had too much luggage to apparate or to use the Floo. Some of the trunks were showing signs of age - a few of them had been his since schooldays and still bore markings of C.O. FUDGE on the side in overly deliberate handwriting. How much had changed since then; what had become of that moderately talented boy who was full of optimism and willingness to serve his people? Cornelius felt old and tired. He had not slept well of late, particularly when Dolores had chosen to join him.

Simply thinking about the woman seemed to invoke her presence; Cornelius cringed as the whoosh of Floo travel came from the parlour. He had hoped to escape unnoticed. "Cornelius! Cornelius? Are you here?" Her shrill tones penetrated through the house.

He had no choice but to answer, "In the hall." She would have found him soon enough.

Dolores marched through invigorated, radiating pleasure. A silvery Persian cat strutted at her side with its nose in the air; the charm was so strong it still remained corporeal even after travel. Both woman and feline gave Cornelius none but the merest glance before Dolores launched into a catalogue of her triumphs of the day. "Fifteen trials in one session this afternoon! We really are upping the efficiency, now. And eleven ended in the Kiss straight away! No offence, Cornelius, but the new Minister - _Pius_ as I call him, of course; we really are _very_ close - definitely does have the right idea about how to lead this country. A nice firm grip on proceedings, that's what's needed. If we carry on at this rate there hopefully won't be any Mudbloods left in a month or so. To think that they pretend to be witches and wizard - uugghh! Vermin! Worse than Muggles if you ask me, because at least Muggles can be rounded up and put into a compound; they'd never try to get above their station. Anyway, I'm quite exhausted after such a day..." She raised her eyebrows demandingly. No answer came.

"Um, Cornelius?" Dolores said sweetly, dangerously, "Hem, hem, I said, 'I'm quite exhausted after such a day'. Aren't you going to do anything to attend to me? You could have had a bath ready by now, or perhaps some tea and cream cakes."

"No, Dolores," replied Cornelius, "Actually, I'm leaving." He motioned towards the stacks of luggage, to which she seemed oblivious.

"Leaving? Nonsense. Your lowly little job in the Department of Games and Sports doesn't stretch to a travel allowance. Decadence of that sort lavished upon a somewhat _junior_ employee would be in contravenance of Regulation 329, subsection 8. _My_ position, on the other hand, permits extensive-"

"You misunderstand me, Dolores," cut in Cornelius with uncharacteristic boldness, "I'm not leaving on business, I'm leaving _you._ "

"Leaving me?" the woman parotted. She gave a forced titter. "You surely must be mistaken. You can't leave _me._ Why, I'm the Head of the Muggle-born Registration Commission. Leaving me would be utterly unthinkable."

"And yet, it does seem to be the case," replied Cornelius calmly, gesturing once more at his extensive baggage. "I shall expect the house to be completely clear of your belongings when I return in a month's time to reclaim it. The wards I have placed will not allow otherwise."

Dolores boggled a little and gaped in the manner of a trout in foul water. "But... why?!"

A Ministry car purred into place outside and came to a stop. Cornelius levitated his cases in one smooth motion and directed them in a stream through the front door. He took in the woman before him, clutching a folder of anti-Muggleborn propaganda to her breast, a record of the day's murders on her clipboard and a glistening emerald locket of false ancestry about her neck.

Cornelius swept out of the door. "You revolt me, my dear."


End file.
